


Glove

by Chysgoda



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Glove Kink, M/M, emet is a bastard, partially clothed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29772693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chysgoda/pseuds/Chysgoda
Summary: He took off the over jacket with its heavy medals and discarded it on the floor with a lazy gesture. He smirked hearing the hero’s aggrieved sigh behind him. He kicked off his boots on the way to the bed. “You’d best be shed off that filthy traveling gear by the time I’m settled, Hero.”
Relationships: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Bookclub Valentione's Fic Exchange 2021





	Glove

**Author's Note:**

  * For [am doing a breakthrough science (acceptnosubstitutes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/gifts).



He took off the over jacket with its heavy medals and discarded it on the floor with a lazy gesture. He smirked hearing the hero’s aggrieved sigh behind him. He kicked off his boots on the way to the bed. “You’d best be shed off that filthy traveling gear by the time I’m settled, Hero.”

Emet Selch could feel the annoyed flare of the cobalt soul behind him, that annoyance did not impede the hero rapidly undressing though. Emet Selch tapped his chin as he considered the bed, he would need to give the hero adequate time. This was not the test he was intended to fail after all. Emet Selch made a show of snapping when he changed the bedding. Silk sheets the color of spilt wine and pillows with considerably more body took the place of the sturdy linens that had been there. He rearranged the pillows to his satisfaction and when he heard the hero clear his throat Emet Selch was deliberately fussy with the last two pillows. Then Emet Selch settled against his throne and finally graced the Hero with his gaze. 

“Cheeky,” Emet Selch said dryly. The hero had shucked aside his travel clothes, and then pulled on the jacket Emet Selch had discarded. The ascian let his gaze drag over the mortal champion, scared as any well seasoned adventurer should be and muscle tone that showed because of use rather than sculpting, and an impressive prick even if it was only half hard. That he could fix with a bit of teaching, a good hero should always be excited to see their liege shouldn’t they? 

Emet Selch lifted a hand and beckoned the hero over. The hero arched an eyebrow but came over anyways. Emet Selch watched the cobalt roil against the stoic confines the hero imposed on himself. How much would it take to make that soul break out of those confines? “You seemed so eager before Hero, has anything changed?”

The hero came to the edge of the bed and snorted. “Maybe you’re not as impressive as you think Emet Selch.”

“Is that so?” The ascian drawled. His hand snapped out to wrap around the back of the hero’s neck. The Hero caught his wrist and Emet Selch shifted to pull the hero close instead. The hero cussed softly when their balance couldn’t keep up with the sudden movement and they fell into the ascian’s chest. Emet Selch’s free hand caught the hero’s chin, forefinger and thumb pinching the strong jaw with force just on the far side of uncomfortable. The hero tensed ready for the ascian’s lips to crash against his and blinked when the finger of a smooth silk glove pressed against his lips. “Be a good Hero and help me with this.”

The hero leaned back slightly to focus on the digit in front of him. Emet Selch crooked the joint just slightly so that it dipped between the Hero’s lips. Instinctively the hero wrapped their tongue around the digit. The ascian shifted so that the hero was straddling his thigh and bent his knee just enough that any movement the hero made would grind against his thigh. The ascian began to pet the hero’s inner thigh in an absent minded motion and began to withdraw his finger from the hero’s mouth, stopping when the seam on the fingertip rested between the hero’s teeth. He arched an expectant eyebrow until the hero obligingly bit down on the fabric and tilted his head back to loosen the fabric. Emet Selch slid the fingers of his other hand up the inside of the hero’s thigh and at the apex gently squeezed. The hero groaned, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest to feel the room. The ascian smirked, “Shhhhhhh, we wouldn’t want any undo attention, now would we sweet Hero?”

When Emet Selch pulled his finger from their mouth, the hero drew in a sharp breath to rebuke the ascian. The breath hissed out in a strangled growl when silk covered fingers wrapped around him and pulled forward coaxing half hard flesh to dizzying stiffness. The hero closed his eyes and tilted his head back fighting for control of his breathing and trying to ignore the chuckle that followed him into the black behind his eyelids. Emet Selch allowed the hero the small respite while he pulled his gloves off. He picked up one of the hero’s hands and licked a long stripe up the side of his hand. The ascian chuckled again when the hero’s eyes snapped open. Emet Selch picked up one of his gloves and then delicately moved the hero’s fingers into position. He kept one eye on his work and the rapid rise and fall of the hero’s chest as he worked the glove onto the hero’s hand gently massaging the fingers into position. The hero’s groan was pure sin as the little muscle knots in the hand released. When the silk snagged on a rough callous Emet Selch lifted the finger to his lips to ease the fabric over the jagged skin. When the hero began to squirm the ascian bent his knee just a bit more so that the jerky movements drug fabric over sensitive skin. The hero moaned and groaned, gaining volume when Emet Selch wrapped his tongue and sucked hard on the hero’s finger. 

“Shhhhhh,” the ascian’s tone was chiding when his mouth popped off. “None of that dear Hero. If you can hold your piece I’ll make sure you are richly rewarded.”

The hero nodded biting his lips. Emet Selch brushed the back of his fingers over the hero and then bent to his task again. With care and gentle slowness eased snagging silk over each battle worn finger. The ascian licked his own lips when he looked into the Hero’s eyes to find the pupils blown as wide as a sin eater’s eyes. His smirk showed teeth when he bucked his thigh up and the hero bent forward as if that would help contain the needy moan. He managed it… mostly. Emet Selch cooed in the hero’s ear, he was such a good boy, just five more fingers, just grind down a little bit to help with the pressure, just little praises and instructions between taking the hero’s fingers in his mouth to work silk over strong fingers that shook like leaves. When the last spit wetted glove was given a tug to settle the wrist in place the hero surged forward to kiss Emet Selch full to the brim with messy need and desperation. 

“Scream for me sweet Hero,” Emet Selch ordered with a snap of his bare fingers. The hero’s back arched as blinding white bliss overtook them and their lungs burned. His scream echoed in the room at first incoherent and then resolving into the ascian’s title chanted desperately when Emet Selch began to work his length and build a natural bliss that overlapped with the ascian’s reward. When the hero screamed again the ascian continued to stroke him until he collapsed against Emet Selch’s shoulder whimpering. 

Emet Selch wiped the hero’s seed off on the bedsheets and then lifted his hand to catch an exhausted tear on the tip of his finger. He admired the faintest hint of iridescence in the liquid before flicking it away. “You were so good for me sweet Hero. Rest and we will certainly have to do this again. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So I think I hit the high points of the prompt? Hope you like it! I have never written m/m before and probably should never be allowed to again.


End file.
